


Secession

by tromana



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Angst, Episode so4e24 The Crimson Hat, F/M, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 17:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tromana/pseuds/tromana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hot as Hell, loud as thunder, black as night, cold as ice. Lisbon's shifts in feelings during 4x24 The Crimson Hat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secession

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the October 2012 Monthly Challenge on Paint It Red. Also for Miss Peg in the Great Stocking Swap 2012 on the same forum.

_Hot as Hell_

"Boss."

Her voice is small, timid. Uncharacteristic, even. Still, you ignore her. Your temper is simmering, building up to a boiling rage.

You turn to face her.

Pause.

Stop to pinch the bridge of your nose. You'll do anything to try and fend off the oncoming headache.

"Boss," she repeats, louder this time. As if you hadn't noticed her standing in your office.

"Yes, Van Pelt?" you ask, with a voice that's weary, tired.

Well, it has been a long day, after all.

"You okay?"

"Just fine," you answer.

It's a lie, but it's also your mantra. Even now, after all these years of working together as a team, you cannot bring yourself to be fully honest with the others. You're so used to building up walls, of maintaining barriers just to keep yourself safe. Some habits die hard and this is one you still cling onto, regardless of whether or not that's a good thing.

Van Pelt furrows her brow, clearly disbelieving and you don't blame her in the slightest. Heck, you can't even convince yourself that you're fine, so what chance do you have of other people believing you?

"But…"

"It's just a flesh wound," you state, irritated. " _You_ nearly got yourself killed!"

And now, it finally hits home, the ramifications of the day's events. You hit boiling point and it all comes rushing out. Van Pelt practically cowers and all you can do is hope that she knows that this is your way of showing that you care about her. You don't mean to be so angry, so frustrated, but this is more than just the job to you. These people are your life and soul.

Just because you cannot stand to have them too close to you, it doesn't mean that you want them too far away either.

You pause again. Blink.

Unwittingly, you conjure up an all too familiar smiley red face, one that haunts your nightmares. It's been going on too damn long; you should have caught him by now. The fact that he's still out there, alive, and not behind bars, hurts. It reminds you of your failures. And that even Jane is no longer around to try and help out.

But it also makes you all the more resolved.

One day, you will capture him. One day, there will be justice in the world.

It's that which means you are so good at your job. Your persistence is second to none.

"I'm sorry," Van Pelt mutters nervously. "But we almost-"

"Almost isn't good enough," you snap, furiously. "It wasn't worth the risk. Damn it, Van Pelt, you know better than most not to cut corners when it comes to Red John."

"I know. I won't do it again."

"Good."

You breathe. She apologizes again and heads for the door, keen to make her escape. You don't blame her, not really. If anything, considering the emotional trauma that she's been through, you know you should have gone easier on her, but you just couldn't.

The terror of losing her had tipped you over the edge.

All you can do is hope that she understands why and that she doesn't hold it against you.

It doesn't surprise you that she distances herself from you once more, and ingratiates herself back in with the rest of the team.

Then again, that's probably for the best. Saves you both from hurting one another.

_Loud as Thunder_

"Do you think she's okay?"

"Not since Patrick Jane left, no," somebody answers.

"I wonder how long she can hold it together."

"Not long, I think he anchors her as much as she helps him."

You listen for a while. The coffee machine in the kitchenette is the place where everyone gossips and talks out of turn. It irks you; you wish you could stop them from gossiping about things they know nothing about, talking about your team, muttering things under hushed breaths about _you_.

Sometimes, you wonder if they have a point. It is, after all, established fact that your closed case record has slumped.

But that isn't down to the fact that you're unable to do your job; it's because you're more invested in finding Jane in one piece.

You hear rumors and speculation about his whereabouts, what he's doing, what criminal activities he's involved in day in, day out.

And every day, you find yourself calling him, texting him, shouting down the phone, begging, pleading that he'll just come back. You can sort this out, you can fix everything he's done, and you can fix _him_. Wainwright will come around; all Jane has to do is apologize. The team needs him and so does you.

But it's all in vain, because he never answers. Never replies. He doesn't even bother to send you a postcard or a letter.

Right now, you would just take one line saying that he's okay, even if you know it would be a lie.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts.

For now, you have work to be getting on with. Cases need solving; criminals need to be put behind bars. It's a never-ending tidal wave of crime and you feel like you're fighting a losing battle. It may be bleak, but you need to try and inject a little goodness into the world.

And to do that, to be able to operate, you need a coffee.

The newly formed Major Crimes Unit disperses the moment you enter the kitchenette. Muttered excuses of paperwork, people to interview later and promises to call later fill the air. You sigh; you don't even care now.

Sometimes, you wonder if you care too much. It'd be a hell of a lot easier if you didn't.

At least your team doesn't indulge in the same kind of mindless gossip. Or at least, you don't think they do. There's times when Van Pelt wears a particularly worried expression, Rigsby asks if you're okay and Cho sends a certain look in your direction. Sometimes, you find yourself wondering if you even know them at all.

But today is a good day. Or at least, you finally have a lead in a case.

However, this also means you push your team to the very limit. Work them as hard as possible, shout out them unnecessarily. They listen to your every whim though, and don't question your authority. At least some people maintain that same respect for you. It's more than can be said for some.

You wish you could feel guilty about telling Van Pelt off for not contacting the sister of the deceased.

Or Rigsby for spending a little too long on the phone to Sarah.

Or Cho for overlooking a piece of crucial evidence at the crime scene.

Then again, for once, everything falls into place. You should be pleased with yourself; it's a closed case.

But somehow, it still feels wrong.

_Black as Night_

You stare at your bedroom ceiling, willing your body into a state of rest.

It doesn't work though; it never does.

You've tried every trick in the book, just short of hypnosis. Breathing exercises, counting sheep, tensing and relaxing each muscle in your body in turn. None of it is helping and it only serves to frustrate you further.

Everything you try, your mind only wanders elsewhere.

Wainwright has made a few passing comments about your team's current shortcomings. It plagues your mind; your career was the one thing you were truly proud of and now, it's left in tatters. You don't even know where to start picking up the pieces of it.

Your team is wary of you; they still care, undoubtedly, but they can see just how much it's crushing you but none of them dare to approach you on the subject. If they did, you would only put them back in their place anyway, so the apprehension is not misplaced.

Contact with your family has grown even more erratic than usual. You even forgot that it was Annabeth's birthday last week and have had to start trying to make it up to your upset niece.

And of course, there's the whole Jane dilemma.

Sometimes, you don't even know what to think when it comes to him anymore.

You miss him, more than words can describe.

More than you expected even. Once, you had believed that it would be a blessed relief to be away from him, if only for a short while. But he plagues your thoughts, plagues your memories, and plagues your mind.

It's more torture being away from him than you ever dared to imagine.

You miss the way he lights up the room with the smile. The way that he does anything, anything at all, just to elicit a wry smile from you. How he keeps a furtive eye on you, just to make sure you're well. There's the simple fact that he's always the one to try and cheer you up when something goes wrong at work. You miss the way he knows you inside out and upside down.

And yes, even how he makes the job simultaneously far easier and much more difficult for you.

He's even missed a Red John case now and that very thought just seems _wrong_.

But, damn it, you thought he cared.

About the team.

About you specifically.

You don't doubt that he's received your messages and listened to the voicemail you've left him. However, it doesn't explain why he hasn't bothered to respond to any of them. He must know how much this is hurting you, what effect it's having on you.

But he remains stoically silent.

And instead, you're the one who is left with all the questions, the confusion and the heartache. You're the one left licking the wounds and trying desperately to make sense of it all.

It's making you sick, that much is obvious. You've never had this much trouble getting to sleep in the past.

If only you could just turn it all off and think about the situation with some level of rationale.

Your last thought before you drift off into an uneasy sleep is that he can go to Hell. You can't waste your life worrying about somebody who so obviously doesn't want your help.

And then, you wonder when your heart grew so dark when it comes to him.

_Cold as Ice_

You work harder than you have done so for months, years even.

Slowly, you're beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. The closed case record has picked up a little, even if the management isn't noticing the difference yet. But there's time for that, there's always time.

It's the one thing you have in excess these days.

It doesn't stop the team from worrying though; they can see the difference in you. Like you, they've learned from the best. They've seen all his tricks and scams and mind games. They know how to apply them to other people. And though they may not be as good as the master himself at it, they know the basics of how to read you too.

Sometimes it bothers you, but you pretend that it doesn't.

After all, they (like so many others) only have your best interests at heart. Or so they'd claim if you called them up on it, anyway.

And you think you're doing so well, at distracting yourself, at rebuilding your career and your identity. Until that is, you hear the worst news possible.

That Patrick Jane has been arrested in Las Vegas for a string of offenses, including assault of a police officer.

You'd always known he was teetering on the bridge of insanity, especially since he left the CBI, since he left you. However, this news is confirmation of all your worst nightmares.

And it comes just as you yourself have decided to give up on him.

You cannot help but believe that the timing is not a coincidence.

That it's fate, even.

Somehow, you believe you've brought this all on yourself.

When you first see him, in a church, no less, you give him short shrift. He tells you that it's all a ruse, a plan to lure out Red John. You tell him his plan is stupid and that he is too, and you mean every word.

There are worse things you can say to him too – far worse, actually – but you hold your tongue.

Not just because you're genuinely pleased to see him, but also because you know how much being close to him hurts. You cannot just forgive and forget, let this all be water under the bridge and all that. It's not that you want to see him suffer for everything he's done to you.

You just don't want to get hurt yet again.

It's got to the point where you're sick and tired of being a victim in his games.

Of Red John's games too. Somehow, you know you're intrinsically caught in the middle between the two of them and it's something that worries you immensely.

Still, you agree to his plans, but only because you can see no other way out of this mess for him. You tell yourself it's the lesser of two evils, that way.

But you're going to keep him at arm's length, just as you should have done for all these years you've worked together. That's a promise to yourself that you vow to keep.

However, it's not long until the ice that formed around your heart is thawed right through.

It's funny how much just five words can turn everything on its head.

" _Good luck, Teresa. Love you."_


End file.
